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There’s copper in the air. There’s copper on his tongue. There’s copper on his hands. There’s copper everywhere. There’s iron on his tongue. There’s failure coating his senses.
Scotty can’t do anything but pace. The buzz under his skin keeps him from sitting. He can’t sit. Too much adrenaline surging through his system. It should’ve been over the moment he pulled that trigger, put Ed down on the ground. His mind focused on eliminating the threat to Lil before it went further south. So focused on the body on the ground in front of him he didn’t even notice until Jefferies had called out.
He scrubs his hand over his head. The taste of iron is everywhere. He should change. Maybe that’ll get it out of the air, out of him. He has to move. The image of Lil slumped against that wall, blood streaking down it will haunt him. He can’t stop playing it over.
BANG!
BANG!
The tinkling fall of shattered glass and his heart pounding in his ears. He should’ve shot sooner. He should’ve done something faster. They always forget how fragile Lil really is. She’s always so strong, always so together, and keeping the rest of them in line.
The soft slide of a touch along his shoulder makes Scotty look. It’s ADA Thomas. Some part of him had hoped it’d be Lil. Lil come to tell him everything was ok and to stop being an idiot about things. He shakes his head and looks away as he rests his hands on his hips. It’s part of the job and Boss has the same kind of injury and he’s fine.
But it’s Lil they’re waiting to hear word on. It’s Lil that’s stuck to a bed and having doctors fuss over her. It’s Lil that’s got him worried. And it’s Lil that’s got him seeing things all too clearly. They’ve been partners for how long now? Four, going on five years, ain’t it? Through Elisa, through Christina, through Kite, and all the others along the way. They’ve managed to stick together. Managed to fix the damage that Christina tore through their partnership. Better for it probably but with a distance and a line they’ve both been careful to toe.
It’s not Thomas he wants to see at his elbow, giving him sympathetic looks and an opening for more. It’s not some girl he picks up while on a job or out at a bar he wants. It’s Lil he wants to see smile, to hear laugh, to find out everything about. It’s Lil he can’t think about losing to some perp’s gunshot. It’s Lil he wants by his side from here on out, day in, day out, until they both decide stepping off the cold jobs is something they want to do.
“Scotty….”
“What?” he grits out.
“She’ll be fine,” Thomas says with a soft tremble in her voice.
“You don’t know that. No one knows that.”
Her hand on his shoulder again and he wants to shrug it off. He wants to shrug off everything that’s holding him here. He needs to be at Lil’s side. He needs to see for himself that she’s still breathing. That she’s still there with them.
It makes him still. He looks at her again then shakes his head. He doesn’t want to be talked to. He wants to do something. The itch under his skin tells him that, but there’s nothing to do. He’d taken care of that the moment he put a bullet into Ed’s back. Earlier, he’d dropped into a chair across from Stillman, when they’d first arrived, but it hadn’t lasted long. He’d needed away from people, away from the normality of everyone else going on with their lives while his hung in the balance. Like he needs Thomas away from him.
Scotty resumes pacing in front of her. He’s out of the way, not tripping over anyone here, and no one’s going to talk to him either. He sees her watching him, unsure what to do to reach out to him. If it was Lil, she’d make some quip or offer up something personal to get him out of his head. But she’s not here. She’s the one in the bed. He clenches his fists and slams one against his thigh. If he’s not careful, he’s going to cause property damage that Lil will give him hell for. His hotheaded temper getting the best of him yet again and obscuring the facts of the case.
Everything comes back to Lil. When did his life become that? When did he cross that line? They’re Partners with a capital P. That box he’s not supposed to open or think about. Not his fault he was expecting a guy and got Lil. Not his fault that four, five years of working cases with her, tracking down leads, and putting the perps behind bars, he didn’t realize the lines weren’t so clear anymore.
The click of heels retreating down the hall makes him look after her. He’s sorry and he’s not. He’s not fit company right now and she’s not really part of them. She’s not family. Boss, Miller, Vera, and Jefferies they were the little family they got in Homicide. Sure, they weren’t the only ones working out of that floor but they saw each other day in day out. Worked the beat, traded partners, and chased down leads. They were family. They knew what he was going through. They knew him.
Thomas doesn’t know him. Doesn’t know Lil. She might respect them all as cops but she wasn’t one of them. Not in the way that counted. Not in the way his instincts were screaming for things to be arranged right now.
He keeps pacing. At some point a glance at his watch makes him realize he’s been up for over 24 hours. He goes out to check in with the others. They haven’t moved from their spots. Vera’s slouched more deliberately down in his chair, declaring for all to see he isn’t going anywhere. Jefferies is watching the docs and nurses move like a hawk. He’s got coffee cradled in his hand while Miller’s staring into the middle distance like she’s a million miles away. Scotty wonders how her kid’s doing, what the arrangements are. Stillman’s looking forward with a frown like he can scold time into moving faster. He’s the only one that catches his glance and nods back.
It hits him in the chest then and makes him suck in a breath. They’re all worried.
Scotty shouldn’t be selfish to think his world’s the only one in jeopardy. They all care. They all wouldn’t know what to do with themselves. They’d probably understand if he told them. But this isn’t about him. It’s about Lil and he grimaces before he turns back to his pacing. They’ll all wait til they hear something. He’s pretty damn certain about that. The sooner the better. For all their sakes.